


Snips and Snails and Puppy-Dogs' Tails

by Icie



Series: Mori's Charms and Magical Assistance [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4105144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icie/pseuds/Icie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo's life is suffering, professional witch Yaku Morisuke is duty bound to help, even when that makes his life suffering, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snips and Snails and Puppy-Dogs' Tails

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kastron (decidueye)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/decidueye/gifts).



The place Tetsurou's been looking for sits between a butchery - the old kind, complete with sausages glistening in the window - and a hardware store that looks like it hasn't been open in a year, judging by the amount of sawdust covering the upper corner of the _closed_ sign in the window.

 _Mori's Charms and Magical Assistance_ reads the plaque above the handle on the green door. Passing by the street, Tetsurou wouldn't have known it was even somewhere he could enter, and as he puts his hand on the knob and twists, a shiver passes from under his nails up into his bones, making him wonder if he _should_ enter. But, he's desperate.

Inside, it's surprisingly bright and airy; especially so because where the sun is coming from should be solid and filled with sawdust. This is not what Tetsurou sees. Instead, he sees a thriving intersection, a tram making its way along the middle of the road and banners hanging from lamp posts in the street.

Everyone comes across magic in Tokyo. It's one of the more concentrated hubs for witches, wizards and creatures from other planes, but displays of permanent fixations are rarer, and ones like this that don't seem to hold a purpose are hardly ever seen.

Tetsurou's gaping is halted as the other occupant of the shop clears their throat. "This is a place of business, not a zoo, y'know."

"Right," Tetsurou says, offering the owner of the voice a grin as he tears himself away from the magic window.

The shop keeper fits in better with the rest of the shop than the display of power the window holds. He's small, with light brown hair and eyes that see right through Tetsurou. Behind the counter is rack upon rack of jars holding powders and liquids, and something that looks like a cat fetus makes Tetsurou's gaze shift sharply to the next item (a curved horn with carvings wrapped around it). Everything is clean and dust free (probably charmed), and placed as precisely as anything can be when all the items are of different sizes. There's one bottle on the lowest shelf with a little sign attached that says: _This really is just jam._

Tetsurou's grin shrinks. "I hear you can help with magic problems."

"Depends what kind."

Helpful. But Tetsurou would rather he be upfront about his skills, really. He rolls up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal his problem.

Curled around his arm from the inner bend of his elbow, down along his forearm and over the back of his hand, slipping between his fingers, is a mark. According to the youkai who gave it to him, he has ten days to live. Nine, now.

The witch's eyes go wide and his mouth tight, but he doesn't make a move towards the mark or clarify whether he can deal with this type of curse. "This kind," Tetsurou prompts, because if this guy can't deal with it, he's on a timer to find someone who can.

The witch reaches out and turns his arm back and forth, tracing one or two of the patterns among the markings. Tetsurou resumes looking out the window. When he stares too long at the markings, they start to shift under his eyes and it makes him queasy.

"How did you get this?" the witch asks, setting his hand back on the counter. Tetsurou retrieves it and tucks it away in his pocket, heart hammering in his throat.

"I was heading home from my job at night, saw some guys beating something in an alley. I stopped them and the youkai they were kicking the shit out of hit me with its dying curse, too." Tetsurou takes a breath. "It stopped long enough to tell me I've got-"

"Ten days?" The witch swears, whips around and yanks an unnamed bottle off the shelf, then a second and a third. He mutters, "What kind of idiot gets caught by that when he didn't even do anything," and bends down to pull a plate with engravings on the rim from a shelf under the counter.

Tetsurou smiles, a touch apprehensively. "Hey, I could be lying, rather than an idiot."

The witch appears back above the counter, expression the definition of unimpressed. "You can't lie in here."

"Would you stop me?" asks Tetsurou, confused.

"Yes," is the short reply he receives.

 _Oh_.

Tetsurou hesitates as the witch continues placing an increasingly large number of items on the counter. Some of them, Tetsurou can identify - a bunch of grapes, cat teeth, half an onion - but most are arcane and border on indescribable. One or two have the same shifting quality as the mark on his arm.

With a thump, the witch slaps the biggest orange Tetsurou has ever seen onto the pile, which obscures all but the top of his head from Tetsurou's view.

He returns to Tetsurou's sight line, around one side of the mound. "What are you paying me?"

All the colour drains from Tetsurou's face. "I, uh, knew I was forgetting something."

If he thought the witch's eyes were staring through him before, it's nothing to now. "Do you have any savings?" Tetsurou shakes his head. "Magical items?" Tetsurou snorts and shakes again. " _Anything?_ "

"I could work it off?" He works sixty hours a week at a 7/11, but he can probably squeeze a few more in. Who needs sleep anyway? He can sleep when he's dead, which will be in nine days if he doesn't get help.

The glare he gets is withering. "Are you sure?"

He nods. He doesn't have another option. No bank will give a dead man walking a loan, and he has nothing to pawn, or he'd have offered it already.

"Fine. You work here for six months."

Tetsurou sags with relief and holds back a _really?!_ that tries to get by, because he's got his confirmation. If he's doing it, he's doing it. "Thanks," he says, instead.

The witch squeezes the orange into a bowl, it doesn't look like he puts any pressure on it but, when the last dribble finishes and he takes it away, it's completely dry.

"You'll start once that-" he waves his hand in Tetsurou's direction, presumably meaning just the curse, and not all of him, "-is gone. It'll take a couple of days."

" _Days_?" yelps Tetsurou. "I have work!"

The witch has an endless supply of disgruntled glares. "I thought you said you'd work for me?"

"I meant like, a shift a week or something! I have rent, bills..." He needs this, he can worry about rent and money after he has a longer life expectancy than a butterfly in a jar. He swallows. "I'll work it out."

There's scuffling from behind the mountain, more items tossed in the bowl. "I can pay you. Enough to cover your rent and living expenses, you won't be able to eat for a while after this, anyway."

"Oh. Good."

"Stick your hand in here."

Tetsurou places his hand in the bowl, which is smoking gently now, and sizzling, it produces an acrid smell. Tetsurou is just about to say _This isn't so bad_ , when he blacks out.

\----

Tetsurou's throat feels like someone has poured coals down it. His stomach feels like a pincushion. And he can't feel anything below his elbow.

"Oh, good, you're awake," says the witch. Tetsurou's ears are working fine then.

"I guess."

"Don't give me that, you're alive, aren't you?" Tetsurou cracks open an eye enough to see the witch sharpening a blade. And squeezes it shut again to a "tch" from the witch. Fuck it, let him. He doesn't want to think about what he's about to do with that thing.

Nothing he can hear gives him an idea as to how long he's been unconscious, and listening the _snick, snick_ of the blade being sharpened is only raising his anxiety. Taking a stab in the dark that _anything_ is better than mindlessly listening to that, he asks "How long was I out?"

"Two days," the witch says, "it doesn't usually hit people that hard, but it means I made more progress than I thought I'd be able to. I should be able to lift it completely tomorrow."

Relief swells through Tetsurou. "I'm not going to die." His words don't even hurt his throat so bad this time.

"Not this week," the witch replies. He sounds amused rather than dubious of Tetsurou's life expectancy. "Have you got demon blood in you?"

"A drop." He thinks back to his family tree, trying to remember exactly which limb it was. "A great, great, great, great grandmother on my mum's side, or something, was a cat demon."

"That explains the reaction, you should have given me a warning."

Tetsurou snorts. "And when was I supposed to do that, witch-san?"

He must have made his point because the witch doesn't answer his question. Instead, he says, "It's Yaku."

"Your name?"

He can hear the frown even though he can't see it. "Yes."

"Kuroo," he yawns. His arm is starting to ache, and he's getting tired again. "Tetsurou, if you need that for paperwork or anything."

There's a huff of a laugh before Yaku mutters, "Go back to sleep, Kuroo." Either Yaku puts magic into his words or it's time for him to rest again, but whatever the reason, Tetsurou does as he's told.

\----

Tetsurou flicks his tail so it hits the leg of the stool he's sitting on. This day could be going better.

He's surrounded by eight pairs of eyes, all belonging to enraptured children staring at him. They're waiting for him to finish the amazing tale of "That One Time My Volleyball Team Went to Nationals". It's the only story he could think to tell them before Yaku returns and lets him know which packet on the shelves is the luck powder, so he can take the children's money and send them on their way already. If he knew, Tetsurou would have used some of the power on himself already. Because this _really_ is not a good day.

Tetsurou's ears flick back as one of the kids sneezes. The last thing he needs is a cold on top of everything else.

_Do cats even get colds?_

The thing with demon blood, is no one knows quite what it will do in any given situation. Planning doesn't go far, neither does research. Sometimes there's no obvious trace of it for generations, but then someone shakes the hand of the wrong person - or the right one, depending on their outlook - and suddenly they're sprouting fangs, claws, bat wings, and generating enough crackling energy to take down a city.

Tetsurou might have gotten off lightly by waking up this morning with a tail, cat ears and teeth more suitable for tearing meat than a human diet, but it doesn't feel like it. He's cut his tongue twice already.

The kids seem to like it, though. One girl with ringed tattoos around her wrists that she was probably born with hasn't taken her eyes off his tail since she stepped through the door.

Tetsurou nearly cries with relief when he spies a familiar brown head striding by the window. He ties off his story with a hasty, "And Taketora never shut up about scoring the last point."

Yaku's eyes flick from Tetsurou's ears to his tail to the children and back to Tetsurou. An odd expression crosses his face before it turns into one Tetsurou knows well and never expected to see on Yaku's face: he's trying not to laugh.

"They're here for luck powder," Tetsurou says in a desperate attempt to be helpful.

Yaku gives them a smile, which surprises Tetsurou. He'd have thought Yaku wouldn't like kids, from how orderly he keeps himself and how little patience he's shown for Tetsurou making jokes. "Are you all from Fukui-sensei's class?"

The tallest of the bunch raises her hand and Yaku nods before she speaks. "All of us apart from Shoutarou-kun. He got special permission."

"I see, he's already lucky then, isn't he? Do you think he needs the powder?"

The smallest boy's eyes go wide and he blurts out, "Yes!"

Yaku stands up straight and bites back laughter, but he's got the sweetest smile as he pulls down a paper box from the shelf - Tetsurou takes note of which one in case they come back another day. "Do you all have your payment?"

The children nod solemnly. A couple reach into backpacks while the others dip their hands into their pockets, but each of them holds out their hand with a coin in it. Yaku takes them one by one, replacing it with a tiny pinch of powder.

They each bow and squeak thank yous, making for the door- but Yaku stops them with a look. "Shouldn't you be thanking Kuroo-san for his story, too?"

Tetsurou freezes. He was happy with the children forgetting about him once Yaku arrived. Any other day he might have been upset, but today is a special kind of terrible.

Thankfully, they don't take long, just coursing, "Thank you, Kuroo-san," and scurrying out the door.

Tetsurou sags, and Yaku's shoulders slump once the door swings shut.

"I should have told them to call you Kuroo-nyaan," Yaku says. Tetsurou can't tell whether that's meant to be a joke.

\----

Boxes fill the back room of the shop, which stretches endlessly into the distance. There's no wall at the end that Tetsurou has been able to find, but the boxes start thinning after ten minutes of walking and he's finally starting to recognize which ones contain what items, and where exactly each kind of new box needs to be placed.

After he lifted the curse, Yaku explained that he _can't_ turn down a request for help if he's offered any payment. Not if it's within his power to complete and the one offering the request doesn't have anything better to offer. "It's a price of the magic," he'd said. Tetsurou has to admit, Yaku looks better off working with this magic than some of the hollowed, dark husks that Tetsurou has seen, eaten away by their power.

Yaku's magic has roots in earth and old communities, people who have laid their power down before. He puts his magic in and draws theirs out, using artefacts, plants and other organic items to enhance it. He'd seemed pleased that Tetsurou asked about it, that he cared, but really it's so interesting that Tetsurou can't imagine not asking.

He likes the work too, surprise feline transformations aside. Shop keeping and inventory don't change when he's selling charms and potions rather than sweets and cigarettes, but the customers are more interesting, the most memorable being a little old lady with dusty moth wings tucked under a shawl wanting to chat to him, in a whisper of a voice. She'd asked about him, and after the 'nice witch' she usually sees, before walking out with an ounce of _moon butter_ in her handbag.

Yaku comes and goes from the shop. Tetsurou was surprised at how easily Yaku trusted him to mind it in the first place. Even with the truth field in place, there's a difference between knowing Tetsurou has it in hand and trusting that he can managing it.

Tetsurou drops his box next to a pile of others. There's a lot back here, and he can only just see the square of light that marks the door. He takes his time wandering back, Yaku sent him off with the box after a man, seven feet tall with eyes that shimmer like emeralds and nails made of the same cut gem, handed it to him and then waved Tetsurou off with it, while he went into details of what the man wanted done. The man steps out of the shop with a bigger spring in his step than when he arrived, as Tetsurou returns from the dusty room, Yaku sighs and pushes a jar back into place on the shelf.

"He doesn't know what he's getting into," he says, casting a glance at the door.

Tetsurou leans on the corner of the counter, looking the same way. "What is he getting into?"

"He wants to bargain with demons in their own tongue, but he'll lose the ability to speak to humans before long. I told him, but-"

"People don't listen."

Yaku snorts. "Not if they think they know what they want already." He casts an eye over Tetsurou's ears, and then down to his tail. "I did try and warn you, you know, about working here."

"Thought you said you didn't know about my blood?" Tetsurou says with a curve to his lips.

Yaku glares. "Magic is unpredictable."

Tetsurou shrugs and folds onto his designated stool, hands tucked into the pocket of his sweatshirt so he can fidget his fingers without Yaku seeing. "It's not so bad. A lot of our customers stand out worse." He offers a lop-sided smile. "And this way they don't look at my hair."

Snorting, Yaku turns away, like he always does when he thinks Tetsurou's said something funny but doesn't want to admit he's hilarious. "I suppose that's true."

"Are you sure you can't do anything about it?"

Yaku shoots him a look. They've had this conversation before.

"Very sure."

Tetsurou sighs, because clearly this is the worst news he's ever heard. Worse even than hearing that there's no going back from demon blood being activated. "What's next on lessons?"

That gets a smile out of Yaku.

It turns out that Yaku likes teaching Tetsurou the theory behind his magic and all about the things in his store, as much as Tetsurou likes learning it. It's interesting. There's culture and art, and just a touch of power that makes Tetsurou's teeth tingle when Yaku draws on it. Yaku is excellent at it, too. He's younger than Tetsurou thought - they're about the same age - and he only took over the shop from his grandmother two weeks before Tetsurou arrived, though he's worked here his entire life.

And he's just-

He's impressive. He manages his regular customers well, keeps them from treating him like a child even though some of them have known him since he was five and the only magic he could display was tracing rainbow coloured patterns in the air. He's good at managing his one-off customers too, the ones who stumble in pleading for his magic. He reassures them and soothes them down, until he can get the information he needs to decide whether or not he can help.

Then, he helps.

Testurou can't do what Yaku does, not without magic in his veins, but he thinks he's proving a valuable employee without it. Yaku seems satisfied, but it's hard to tell. At least he's definitely guilty about the cat thing.

Except, Tetsurou keeps catching him looking at him, a wrinkle on his forehead. He asked him about it one time, but all Yaku did was pull down a wooden box with different dried herbs and insist that Tetsurou name them and their uses. He didn't realise it was a distraction till an hour afterwards. By then, it was too late.

The thing that keeps Tetsurou awake at night and staring at the ceiling in perfect detail (night vision can be a blessing and a curse), is that he likes Yaku. Unfortunately, the only opinion Yaku seems to hold of him is that he's a "relatively dedicated employee, not bad to have around," which is a problem when Tetsurou finds himself grinning thinking about having made Yaku laugh twice in one day.

And a problem when Yaku's been talking about uses for gemstones for twenty minutes and all Tetsurou's managed to take in is that Yaku says their names like he's talking about friends.

"Why are you teaching me all of this, if I'm only here six months?" It takes a moment for it to sink in that the one who asked that question was Tetsurou.

Yaku's face heats up, and it looks like he's about to blow his lid. "I'm sorry, I thought you were _interested_."

Tetsurou flinches at the venom behind Yaku's words. "I am!" He runs his hand through his hair to try and relax enough to get his ears off his scalp. They're proving an embarrassing telegraph of his every mood. "I am, I love it. It's-" the most fascinating thing he's ever tried to wrap his brain around. He swallows. "It's just kind of a bother for you, you know? Six months..." God, and one already up. "It's not long." And he's going to miss the hell out of Yaku once it's over.

Yaku glares, but there's a flicker of concern in his eyes. "We could extend your contract."

Happiness floods into Tetsurou's face. "Yeah?"

Yaku glares harder. "Yeah _._ " He ducks his head, but not fast enough to keep Tetsurou from catching the blush plastered across his cheeks.


End file.
